


Afterwards

by Edollhouse



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edollhouse/pseuds/Edollhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[SPOILERS to 3x07] Judith meets her father-in-law for the first time since he had her tortured, wondering what is to become of her and what sort of man he really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterwards

Even though she has survived she still feels like she died upon that platform. It doesn’t matter that she was allowed to keep her nose and her other ear, doesn’t matter that the whole court now has to see her betrayal as divine intervention. What she wanted, what she asked and begged for, to survive for her children, to be pardoned because her children need her, has been taken away from her. 

Despite his father’s words, Aethelwulf didn’t even wait until she was back in her room before making it absolutely clear that she has lost any claim to their son, ‘his son’ as he called him. As for Athelstan’s son, her little boy who the King has decided to name Alfred, he has been taken away from her as well, to chambers near the King’s. She was assured by one of the nurses that the decision was not to punish her, the King simply wants to assure himself of the divine child’s safety, but she knows that both boys have been taken from her. It will be entirely up to the King’s mercy whether she will see either of them again.

Physician monks tended to her wound and have forced her to drink something that tastes bitter and smells horrid, but helps her sleep and makes her cry less. She likes sleeping and something in the brew makes her nightmares stay away, at least when she sleeps. When she is awake she remembers, relives it in her head, sometimes so vividly that she can almost physically feel the pain and she wants to scream. So she sleeps, lies on her bed and stays in her room for days, maybe weeks. The door is locked, but she has no bigger desire to face the world outside anyway. 

Sometimes it is as if the last weeks of her pregnancy just continued, like the terrible nightmare did not happen, and she is still waiting to give birth. She fantasizes that she still is pregnant, that Athelstan is till here and that he has just gone to fetch something and will any moment appear on her doorstep. He will greet her with a smile and a kiss and they will talk about their child and their happy future. It is a sweet fantasy, but she does not indulge it too often, since waking up from it hurts almost more than it’s worth. The only people she sees outside her fantasy are the servants and physician monks. Some of them look at her in awe, as though she really was to be compared with the Holy Virgin, but the rest clearly show that though they will follow orders they do not think any higher of her than they would of a whore.

When the King comes to her room she doesn’t know how many days have passed. She has been told that he would visit her today, has been waiting for him in her chair since they dressed her in the morning and now she hears the lock turn. Strangely enough she can still hear with the side where her outer ear was cut off, though not as good as her left one. 

He waits by the door for a bit and tells the waiting lady to leave them alone. Just hearing his voice, the voice she hasn’t heard since that day, makes her feel sick and she has to grip the arms of the chair and fight back the panic that is whelming up inside her. To her he is now nothing more than her torturer, the Devil himself wouldn’t scare her half as much as he does. She wants to fight it, fight him, but the mere thought makes her body recoil, as if though her survival instinct physically wants to remind her of this man’s power. Finally she manages to push herself from the chair to kneel on the floor.

“Sire” she greets him as she begged him during her punishment and lowers her head.

“Judith” he calls softly and walks over to her and she remains still, trying to control her breathing. He kneels by her, she can’t remember if she has ever seen him kneel. “I should have visited you sooner, but the monks told me you were still recovering.”

Slowly he puts his hand under her chin to lift her head. Now she is shaking and tears are forming in her eyes, but she keeps still. He moves away the hair the female servant spent so much time to arrange and she closes her eyes knowing what he is looking at. When he is done with the inspection he rearranges the hair back into place and takes hold under her arms to help her up.

As she feels his hands on her body she almost throws up and as soon as she is back in the chair she clings to it to calm herself. After what is probably just a few seconds, but feels like forever, he lets go of her and she can finally breathe again. A chair has been arranged opposite to hers and he sits down.

“How-how are my children?” she finally manages, but it is barely more than a whisper. It’s the only thing she cares about and she would hate it if he left without her knowing if they are well. She has asked the servants, but none of them will talk with her other than to pass on messages from the King, either because they respect her too much or not enough.

“They are fine, both of them are very well, such strong boys” he assures her, still with the same soft voice and she wants to scream. “We have christened Alfred, or the Bishop has. I held him during the ceremony and Aethelwulf held his brother. It seemed fitting”

It is another reminder that they are not in any way hers anymore. Though she thought she had no tears left, she lets a few tears roll down her cheeks to relieve the pain and once they have started she cannot stop them and soon she is bent over in her chair sobbing relentlessly. Her father-in-law doesn’t react at first, but when it is clear that she won’t stop and the sobbing nears hysteria, he rises to walk behind her, takes her shoulders and pulls her up and holds her there, the tears are still running.

“Stop it, Judith” he finally orders, but her body won’t listen “I said stop it!” he barks and the harsh tone is enough to shock her body to stop and she is panting for air.

“I need . . . I need to see them”

“And you will” he answers with slight annoyance and a light pat on her shoulder, just relieved that her little outburst didn’t explode. She looks up at him with her tearstained face, into those unfeeling eyes that were going to watch her get her nose and ears cut off.

“When?” his eyes and his inability to answer make her realize he is lying to her, that he has no intention of ever letting her see her little boys again. She wants to yell at him, tell him that she is their mother, tell him that he has no right to stop a mother from seeing her children. But that would guarantee his decision, so instead she grips his right hand and kisses it and in the process wets it with her tears. “Please, Sire, please” she looks up at him again. 

“Oh, no, Judith, none of that . . . I am your father-in-law, am I not?”

She sighs and kisses the hand again “Please, Father-in-law . . . Please . . . Father”

That ‘father-in-law’ has so many times been meant to remind him that he is not her King, but her relative, that she has a strong and powerful father not far away who could cause him much damage if he ever dared to mistreat her. Now however, ever since that day when she screamed it from the top of her lungs with all her might from the scaffold and she dropped the last part of the word, it is a gesture of submission, proof that she has left her family and acknowledges him as the head of the family she now belongs to. He smiles at her, his warm gentle smile, which doesn’t know any of the world’s worries, removes his hand from her grip and strokes her cheek. 

“Sweet daughter-in-law of mine, I will make sure you’ll see them both tomorrow . . . Why did you not give us his name right away? He is not here, there was no way anyone could get to him, why protect him?”

She is afraid, sensing there is a certain answer expected of her, but she has no idea what that answer would be. Surely he knew, must have known, about her relationship with Athelstan. He could not possibly think that there have been any other men. 

“I . . . I did not want to confess, for me, for Athelstan, for . . . for Alfred” she deliberately uses the name he has chosen for her child “I wanted him to be able to come back” 

Suddenly the King’s eyes turn sad, but he will not utter his grief over Athelstan’s departure, how much he shares her wish of his return. He leaves her side and goes to look out of the window where the sun is setting behind the forest. It is a marvellous sight, filled with God’s beauty and he studies it while mumbling, mostly to himself “Of course you fell for him, this holy man, this man of God” he then turns and when he does there is a small smile on his face and his eyes are glistening “And you have given us his child”

He sounds so reassuring, happy and sad at the same time and she is tempted to believe him, but she remembers the way he looked at her at the platform, the distain and hatred in his eyes. “Have you forgiven me?” 

She barely dares to ask, fearing it is too soon, but without his forgiveness her situation will be impossible. He slowly nods and puts a hand on the windowpane to support himself, as if looking for strength. “You have made penance and in the eyes of Wessex you are forgiven” she sighs in relief before she hears him continue “I cannot speak for your husband. He shows no signs of wanting a reconciliation between you, but I have spoken with him and he will accept this child as his son”

At that, Judith can no longer hold back, but shakes her head “He won’t, he can’t” her father-in-law ignores her and walks over to her once more.

“As I have accepted him as my grandson. Oh, he is such a wonderful boy, Judith” when mentioning the small child he smiles again and she can’t help but make a small smile back. It feels so good to have a real conversation with someone, to be able to feel joy over the child with someone else, even if it is not Athelstan. “And, of course, now that you are well, the child needs his mother”

She can hardly believe what he is saying, dares not believe it.

“I will still want him near my rooms. It is a . . . an unusual situation to say the least, and it needs special precaution, but I strongly believe that Alfred needs his mother far more than any nurses and if you are feeling strong enough . . .”

Immediately she forgets all her pains she has had the last couple of days, forgets that he is the Devil who ordered that she would be tortured, she even forgets that Athelstan is not there. She rises and tries to keep her calm as she stands before him. He smiles and spreads his arms and she steps into his embrace.

“Thank you” she whispers, her ear pressed to his chest “Thank you for your mercy, and your forgiveness . . . Father”

“Oh, in the end it showed out there was very little to forgive. Dear sweet Judith, how I would hate to see you be brought any more pain”

She tries to figure out why he is doing this. Surely it is not out of love for her. Is he genuinely happy that she has given birth to Athelstan’s son? Does he really believe him to be a gift from God? Is he doing this for Athelstan? Then as she feels his hands on her back and the warmth from his chest she mentally scolds herself. If Aethelwulf has taught her anything about his father it is that everything he does he does for Wessex, for political gain and if she can’t find the political reason for his actions then she has not found the reason at all.

Athelstan is gone, so are the other Northmen, Alfred is just a baby and an illegitimate baby at that. She thinks it over for a while, wondering if it really matters what hidden motives the King has. He has let her live, forgiven her and has promised that she will be reunited with her children again, why would she care about the ‘why’?

Slowly he lets go of her, helps her to sit down and then sits down opposite to her, his chair so close he has her trapped, and then it hits her. She has been brought back into the fold. She might not hold much power on her own, but her father is the King of Northumbria, her husband the next King of Wessex who she is supposed to provide with heirs, and sometimes she dares to think herself to be the strongest reason for Athelstan to ever return. As long as the King has her child and can keep her in line, he has power over all this. She supposes his political motives should anger her, but she can’t help but feeling that he has made a mistake. The three men she has supposedly any control over, her father, her husband and her lover, have all abandoned her, that way to power and life is closed to her. Her sons are all she has left and now when the King has promised her access to them, he has opened up her way back. Those children are Wessex’s future and he has just given her power over it, she just has to beware so that it is not another trap.

**Author's Note:**

> Michael Hirst might want us to jump from seeing Judith being tortured to seeing her all calm and smiling at her father-in-law, but I can't believe that was as easy for her as he made it seem. I needed to write this


End file.
